


Ethics and (not so) Public Affairs

by Aridette



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Tumblr: conhaythsecretsanta2014, templar!Connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 13:14:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3135776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aridette/pseuds/Aridette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern Templar!Connor College AU where Haytham is not only the Grandmaster but also Connor’s Professor. Since Connor was brought up in the way of the Templar he is following his father’s footsteps at the University’s School of Leadership and Public Policy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ethics and (not so) Public Affairs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theprettynerdie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theprettynerdie/gifts).



> written for the [ConHaythSecretSanta2014 on tumblr](http://conhaythsecretsanta2014.tumblr.com/)

Most people hated Monday mornings. They hated it for the simple fact that it stood for getting up at the crack of dawn to be on time for a job they didn’t quite like.

Most people hated to get up early, period.

The same could not be said for Connor. Monday mornings usually found him at his most cheerful. He hummed to himself as he slipped into his boots and coat just a little before 7:45, making his way across the still dark campus for his 8 am class of Social Psychology.

Now, Connor wouldn’t have chosen that subject at all, but as the son of the current Templar Grandmaster he’d had very little say in it. And that very Grandmaster was the reason he had a spring in his steps upon entering the lecture hall. His father already stood in front of the class and prepared his presentation.  
“Good morning, Professor Kenway.”, Connor said softly on his way to his usual spot.

“Good morning, Mister Kenway.”, his father greeted without looking up. It was their Monday morning ritual and Connor’s fellow students thought they were simply making fun of the fact they shared a surname.

Sadly it was the only one of Haytham’s classes that Connor could take up this semester, but he already looked forward to the next one where he could take up three if he didn’t fail this one. His smile faltered however as Haytham’s eyes roamed across the room before he took out a stack of paper that Connor recognized as last week’s pop quiz.  
He’d had spent the weekend with his father and subsequently not been prepared at all. He still wondered how his father had managed to attend the Templar meeting, prepare for his classes and have a test ready when Connor had been by his side all day long.

The young Templar looked down guiltily as Haytham handed him his test.

“I am sorry, father.”, he mumbled quietly so nobody else could hear.  
“Quiet now, boy.” The scolding didn’t have much bite. “Have a look at your answers”, the Professor smirked and moved on towards the next row of students who looked every bit as terrified of failing as Connor had felt.

A big red D was circled on the first page. He hadn’t failed the test but it had probably been very close. He had lost points in exactly the places he had feared, but at least the things he had managed to write down hadn’t been wrong. Reluctantly Connor turned the last page. His head shot up immediately, searching out his father’s presence in the room for reassurance. He just smiled at him and turned to answer another student’s question.

A bright blue sticky note stuck to the back. “My office. 21:00. Bring dinner.” it said in Haytham’s neat handwriting.

The rest of the lecture went rather uneventful and Connor tried to catch every word to be better prepared for the next test. His father was well known for his high expectations, but if the class landed marks below a certain average it was entirely possible he would use some of the same questions in the next test just to make sure everyone understood the matter.

Despite his brashness and rigour he was amongst the most popular staff members.

The same could not be said for his assistant though.

Charles Lee was a very disagreeable man. Most of the time, Connor suspected, for no other reason than to win an argument or impress the Grandmaster. His attempts were futile however, but apparently he was the only one who had yet to realized that.

Eleven hours later found Connor knocking on his father’s door. The sun had set before his last class had even started and the temperature had dropped considerably since. Too afraid that any take-out might get cold on the way back to his father’s office, he had chosen to dig out his mother’s old recipes and cook himself. The dorms were way closer anyway and he could spend some more time inside while he prepared Four-Spice Duck Breasts and Roasted Carrots. His mother had always made them around Christmas and since his father wasn’t too fond of cooking himself Connor had learnt early on to take matters into his own hands when it came to family traditions and food.  
  


He knocked again, and finally someone seemed to have noticed him. The door swung open to reveal one very unamused-looking Charles Lee. “The young mister Kenway, what a surprise.”, he said. “What brings you here at such a late hour?”  
Connor simply raised the plastic bag in reply. “My father asked me to have dinner with him.”

Charles looked him up and down. “Well, I’m afraid Professor Kenway left the office a while ago. But he should be back in no time if you’d like to wait inside?”, he explained, opening the door a little wider for Connor to come in and offering him a chair at the spare desk.

“What are you doing here?”, Connor asks after a while of sitting in silence and staring at Charles’ back. The other man sighed and looked up from his work. “Sorting some of the paperwork, what does it look like?”

“But why”, Connor keeps pressing.

“Your father is a busy man. I thought you had noticed by now how he is splitting his time between the Order and this ridiculous institution.”, he explained, clearly annoyed by the question.

“He would never say that.” The protest was clear in Connor’s voice, yet he tried to fight his anger back. Instead he crossed his arms across his chest. There was no point in arguing with his fellow Templar when his father had explained to him time and time again that Charles was a man of action rather than of words.  
“And since when do you know what the Grandmaster thinks?”, Charles snapped, eyebrow raised in defiance. “I think I have spent as much time with him as you have, Charles. You are no wiser than me.”  
Just as the older Templar was about to protest the door opened and Haytham entered the room, looking from one to the other, snow falling off his shoulders with every turn.

“Sir-”

“Father-”

“Oh, I hadn’t expected to find the both of you in one room and alive.”, he smirked and made to get rid of the snowy layers of clothing. “Didn’t you finish an hour ago?”, Haytham turned to Charles. “Yes, Sir. But I thought I could help out a little bef-”, Haytham stopped him right there. “Thank you, Charles, but I got it from here.” Charles stopped and stared for a second, then neatly stashed the papers he had been handling and putting them aside. “Of course, Sir. I will be leaving then.”

A second later Charles was out the door and Connor took it his turn to speak up again.

„I don’t like him being your…. ‘assistant’.“  
„That hadn’t occurred to me yet.“, his father replied drily.  
„Even your office smells like him“, Connor pulled up his nose in disgust.

“Now, now, don’t be disagreeable, son. It will pass.” He set down a bag of his own behind his desk and looked at Connor, expecting more words of protest. When none came he stepped closer and pulled his son into a hug.

“What is that heavenly smell?”

“It’s clearly not Chinese”, Connor smiled and hugged him back. “Always knew there were some perks to keeping you around, boy”, Haytham teased, which immediately earned him a slap on the ass. “Becoming bold, are we?”

“Maybe a little, but you like it.” Between the two of them none were better than the other when it came to teasing. “I’ve missed you, father.”  
“You saw me just this morning.”, the older man murmured against Connor’s neck before pressing butterfly kisses up his neck until just below his ear.

“That doesn’t count…”, he whispered, letting his hands roam up and down his father’s back, “but we should have dinner before it gets any colder.”

“You’re right, we should.”, Haytham slowly slipped from the embrace, “I’ve got something to go with dinner, though.” He smiled and sat down by his desk while Connor sat up their dinner. “Do you mind telling me what’s the occasion, father?”, his son asked.

“Sit down and we shall talk.”, the Templar Grandmaster said. His face broke into a sudden smile as he reached for the bag he had brought back earlier and handed Connor a red and golden Christmas Cracker. Connor looked at the Cracker, then up do his father, then back down again. “But it isn’t even Christmas yet”, he wondered. Haytham gave a quiet sigh, “Indeed, but I’m afraid urgent business came up and I will be busy travelling over the holidays.” Their eyes locked for a moment. “So this is-”, Connor began, “We’re not-?”  
“I didn’t know until early this morning, it was the best I could get up with on such short notice.”, Haytham explained. “So let’s make the best of it?”

He prayed Connor would understand, the boy was stubbornly set in his ways sometimes, especially when it came to their family traditions and their time together. For a few moments longer Connor stared at the table. Then he slowly raised the cracker, holding onto one end, offering the other to his father. With a forced smile that slowly softened he said, “We will.”

In no time they wearing matching paper crowns and finished the almost cold duck.

“But I got the feeling this wasn’t the only reason you asked me to join you tonight, father.”, Connor noted. The desk had been cleared a while ago and they were both leaning back in their chairs. The younger Templar absentmindedly played with the ring he was wearing ever since he officially became a member of their Order.

“It might have been, it might not have been”, Haytham offered in explanation. A smile snuck into his face as he slipped out of his shoes and slid his socketed feet up his son’s legs. Connor looked up in confusion without moving his head from where it was resting against his chest. The sight drew a rare laugh from the Grandmaster. “You look ridiculous, Connor.”

His eyes twitched closer, but he couldn’t hide the smile. “So do you.”

“Can I stay over tonight?”, he asked out of the blue.

“What makes you ask that?”

“Because I know you’ll regret it if we don’t take this someplace else.”, he answered with a smirk.

“You realize that practically loses all appeal while you’re wearing this crown?”, Haytham teased.

“You realize that you gave me this crown?”, Connor answered just as teasingly.

“Well…”, he shrugged.  
  


That night, when they left the campus, shoulders touching intimately, Connor decided that Monday was definitely his favourite day of the week and he couldn’t care less if they sucked for anybody else.


End file.
